Carnal Desire
by nerdyweazel
Summary: When Jimmy is brought back to life in a graveyard and has no memory of the events before his death, he sets out to find Johnny and discover what happened to him. Dib involuntarily teams up with Jimmy, but will more happen between them before they find Johnny? Hints at Johnny and Jimmy, and eventual Jimmy and Dib.


Chapter 1

Wild dogs ran along the chicken wire fence of the graveyard that lay on the outskirts of the city, barking as they chased a squirrel desperately clinging onto the cheap material with its life. When lightning flashed and thunder boomed, they yelped and ran leaving the squirrel to let out a puff of air and wipe its forehead before continuing on its merry way.

Suddenly, lightning cracked again, hitting a nearby headstone. The outline of a spiky- haired figure could be seen lying on a grass marker, or flat headstone, once the surrounding smoke cleared. The figure slowly tried to lift its head, but failed miserably. Keeping its eyes closed, it tried to remember the events that led up to this point.

 _Was he hungover? Wait, that's right, he was a he; an eighteen year-old male fresh out of high school. No, he wasn't hungover, he didn't even remember celebrating when he graduated, but he never went to graduation, did he? That was okay, right? Yeah, he would get the papers in the mail anyways. Did that even matter right now? No, then focus, FOCUS. Okay, so he's eighteen, not drunk, but how did he wind up here in the cemetery of another town? Was it to a girl again? One of the ones who stayed around the football players lockers hoping to get…no, no. That chick who stood outside the movie theater quoting "The Crow?" Nah. Hold on, hold on, HOLD ON. It was his idol…his idol…he told him everything; how he felt when he saw him, how he inspired him, what he did to those girls…but what happened after that? He couldn't remember, but he did recall seeing Nny at some point, so he would know, right? Right …now, to get up and find Nny._

In start of his adventure to find his beloved idol, the newly adult male first tried to open his eyes, but his vision was fuzzy and his eyes were assaulted by the bright lights and neon signs off in the distance. As more thunder boomed and lightning cracked, he gained a head- splitting headache, his ears began to ring, and he became nauseous due to the lame indie music being played at the closest coffee shop. _Fuck life._ Unsatisfied with bodily reactions, he attempted to thrust his entire body off of the ground only to land in a bent position with the upper half of his being laying across a tall memorial and the bottom half partially dangling off.

"God. Fffffffucccccckkkkk!" he screeched over the thunder. "You don't see anyone else having to deal with this. No news reports on this," he stuck his neck out, squinted down while clinging to the memorial, and read it while shouting in an angst- filled tone, "Mr." he glanced back at the information, "Vorhees, here never just crawls up out of his grave all forgetful and like 'what the hell just happened?' No, he gets to be all nice and peaceful in the afterlife! What about me? Huh?! Don't I deserve that?!"

Just then a knock against wood and a muffled voice called, "Keep it down, you poopy- scoopin' whipper snapper. Tryin' to get some rest down here."

The teenager's face contorted in shock; his eyes went wide, and he sucked his lips into his mouth while he jumped back off the memorial. Then, during his run from the indignant corpse, he remembered, "Poopy- scoopin'?!" As the words echoed off of headstones, hollows in trees, and tombs in the deserted graveyard, hysterical laughter followed that rivaled a hyena. "Pffffttttt,"he choked, "pooo- poo- poopy SCOOPIN'!"

Humor was continuing to leave his system in small giggles when he neared the exit. City lights could be seen more clearly now; they were a few blocks from where he was standing. Lightning cracked again as the last giggle left, illuminating everything around him, that's when something began to move from behind the cemetery sign.

He approached the sign without making noise, his "work" allowing for him to gain the gift of silence when needed. "Come 'ere, kitty kitty kitty," calling out to what he identified as a cat, "I'm not going to hurt you," the 'cat's tail' began swishing back in force as if trying to decide which way would serve as a better escape, "Let's be friends." For once, the teenager didn't intend harm of any kind towards another living thing.

 _It'll be nice to have a little companion while looking for Nny. He'll be like a tiny, purring, fluffy heater that I can talk to and carry on my shoulder._

The sign was now directly in front of him and the cat's tail was still. He reached out to gently play with the feline's tail only to find that there was no structure or sustenance; it was thin and felt more like human hair than fur. Disgusted with being tricked, he aggressively yanked the lock of shiny, black scythe-like hair revealing a somewhat tall, borderline- anorexic teen who was clawing at the hand that held his hair, huffing and puffing, and kicking the ground.

"Care to explain why instead of finding an awesome cat behind this sign I find a weird teenager?" He asked as he loosened his grip on the other teen's hair just as the other was pulling his self to the ground. The teenager fell, coughing on the dust that flew up as he moved to stand. Dusting off his trench coat, straightening his glasses that fell askew during the manhandling, and standing at full height, he glared up at the other teen who was about eight inches taller. "Why's a punk like you out here anyways, huh? Late at night…during a storm…in a cemetery…where no one can hear you scream," singing the last bit much to the horror of the other in his company.

"You're in no position to be asking," the smaller teen scoffed while backing away, "I mean, come on, do you really except anyone to believe that you were here looking for a cat? You don't even look like the type to own any pets; more like serial killer. Torturing small animals, hurting others, and stealing everything that makes your life better, and for what- HUH- FOR WHAT?!" During the teen's rant, he managed to climb the fence, standing in the raging wind that caused his trench coat to flap menacingly with his arms out to the sky.

The other teen chuckled a little, and ran a laced glove through his dark hair. _This one has a few screws loose, but I'm not complaining._ He moved closer towards the teen on the fence, "Don't like the serial type do yah?" The teen jumped down from the fence.

"Of course not. Who does?" _Oh, kid, you have no idea._ "Not even those who are suffering from Stockholm Syndrome really 'enjoy' their captor's company, even the ones who fabricate a fantasy around the sickness of the other person," his gaze caught sight of one headstone in the darkness. Underneath a tree, a headstone with a cracked pair of goggles read:

"Here lies Gwenieve Membrane

Wife of Professor Membrane

Mother to Dib and Gaz Membrane"

He looked up in time to catch a pair of near black, eyeliner- stained eyes staring up at him then in the same direction that he had been looking. The other teen began walking back, forgetting the corpse that had previously caused him to rush out of the graveyard. "Hey, wait, stop!" the smaller teen screamed while attempting to catch up.

Kneeling down next to the headstone, the teen looked at the googles and quickly read the headstone before the other came up from behind.

"Was she your mom?" he mumbled.

"Yeah."

"So, then you're Dib Membrane?"

"Yes."

"Nice to meet you, Dib. I'm the Darkness."


End file.
